Expiry Notions of the Soul

by Curt Welborn

While I was preoccupied with camping for the first time in a long while, I pondered deep into the hidden shelves of my cerebellum about the prospects of death. Reading “The Big Nap” my spontaneous, erratic thoughts lead me back to a memory that would not only define but motivate the path to where my life has led today. Facing death straight in the eye brought about a vexatious intimacy during which I analyzed my very own self esteem. It arose re-occurring questions. What will the future hold for me if I continue to live this way? I thought he/she was my friend? What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this occurrence? These questions were essential for my independent, self-driven education. In those days I was only but a guileless, benign, yet ultimately desperate youth looking for a way to conquer this world, looking only for a difference, anything other than my malnourishment of acceptance and the idealistic, picturesque love I failed to receive in my development as a child. 

The diverse collection of people I had befriended or encountered in my travels would stimulate and shape my mind throughout my journeys. I’d stumble into conspiracy theorists who would foresee that one day soon, the populace would be rounded up by FEMA, and we would all have the choice therefore to accept or reject the “mark of the beast.” Obama would surely seize our guns from us if our eyes strayed away too far from “God.” (so they thought). The minority were of the opinion that the people wouldn't even be able to make that choice at all. I was once in an unstable, controlling “on-again, off-again” relationship with a religious, Mansonesque figure. He claimed to be affected by the touch of God. You could tell with all his quiddity he believed that wholly and entirely. He was a very troubled, mentally unstable person. To this day he is hiding in Mexico awaiting for the tribulation (mentioned in the Bible) to occur at any moment now. For two and a half years I was with this man. Even after we broke up I had a difficult time moving on from infatuation and what he exhorted into me of his perceptions of "God." I romanticized him for a long time even after we broke up. 

Another bracket would tell me to simply not think too much about the meaning of life and the enigma that is “death.” They’d give me that much tired, cliche line that “everything will turn out for you right in the end as long as you’re a good person.” A good person? That was nothing but a myth, even an oxymoron as far as I’m concerned. My travels to Albuquerque, New Mexico eventually would lead me into an unruly assortment of inviting individuals coined the “punk rockers.” In their eyes, life was pretty much scarce for purpose. The only way to embrace and deal with it was to face it headstrong with a sense of humor and a conviction for nihilism. Do what you wish, as none of us in all probability will make it out alive in the end. I kept my personal faith tucked away, but established many characteristics of the scene. I was a romantic, now living a life of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll.

“I don’t fear death so much as I fear it’s prologue: loneliness, decrepitude, pain, debilitation, depression, senility: After a few years of those, I imagine death presents like a holiday at the beach (Roach, Mary).” Before the damage was done, I had been raised in the Episcopalian Church and spent my fair share of time in Christian based private schools. Whilst attending elementary school, my first death would be experienced. The pastor of the church Father Hank faced a tragic ski accident that would tragically be the death of him. During the funeral, I recall laughing in the middle of the service as a friend made a joke on a classmate (Jennifer Faith’s) stinky perfume. Many people turned around and gave me a stern, offended glance. It puzzled me that I even found my friends joke triggered that much of a reaction out of me. I felt just as confused and devastated as the rest of the crowd, if not even more so. The inimical reaction of the crowd left me feeling deep remorse and shame. Furthermore, I was sent to a private Christian school in Colorado Springs. I was personally discriminated against by the faculty for being identified as homosexual while finishing the last couple of months of my Senior year. They almost considered expulsion for me. Instead, they saw to it that I would be monitored the rest of the term and enforced that I hand over my laptop and phone to the warden of the school. They deemed me as a "satanic presence" and a potential bad influence to the other kids in there school for being an anti social outsider who dressed in all dark, tattered clothes who dared to question the customary dress code. The way the system was set there, you could not interject or question what was insisted as factual.         

I would latter stumble upon this passage whilst entering a personal rehab, making a transition from the reckless lifestyle. During that time period, I resided in central Florida. An environment where I faced much hostility and aggression for "daring" to be different. I got ostracized. I couldn't go outside without somebody yelling out the word "faggot" to me. An environment flourishing with Trump enthusiasts and Bible thumpers promoting and shoving there agenda down your throat on a regular basis. Justifying the mistreatment of the individual.These words summed together my former state of mind, previous to my endeavored, self-acknowledged alteration. “It was as if I had waited all this time for this moment and for the first light of this dawn to be vindicated. Nothing, nothing mattered, and I knew why. Throughout the whole absurd life I’d lived, a dark wind had been rising toward me from somewhere deep in my future, across years that were still to come, and as it passed, this wind leveled whatever was offered to me at the time, in years no more real than the one I was living. What did other people’s deaths or a mother’s love matter to me; what did his God or the lives people choose or the fate they think they elect matter to me when we’re all elected by the same fate. The others would all be condemned one day(Camus, Albert).” 

Duly noted, I still maintain my stance that it is better to live a life in absence of a “deity” as a role model figure for one’s life. I cope in a more self-reliant approach. I strive for higher self-esteem. The usage of substances, along with the soliciting of thrills (“sex, drugs and rock n’ roll”) almost brought upon my demise.  If others may not respect me, then I’ll just have to approach who I am with reverence. The endeavor for another’s approval will only lead to uncertainty. One must rationalize their own worth. It is impossible to please everyone. To have meaning, I must create my own. “Life is nothing more than an illusion. It’s like a poor actor who struts and worries for his hour on the stage and then is never heard from again. Life is a story told by an idiot, full of noise and emotional disturbance but devoid of meaning (Shakespeare, William).”